


Lungs

by orphan_account



Series: Lungs [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Gen, dragon!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 19:30:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A particularly large crate of fanmail arrives at the RoosterTeeth office, addressed to Achievement Hunter. In it, are six exquisite eggs, which will irrevocably capture their lives, and love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lungs

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the Dragon!AU thought up by the brilliant NeedsMoreMuse on Twitter.
> 
> First time I've properly wrote fic in a good three years... so bear with me, folks.

 

                ** _Prologue_**

 

                 “It’s a little... _bigger_ than our usual fanmail, don’t you think?”  
Ryan circled the metal crate - which took up the whole floor of the office - that had mysteriously arrived at the front door of the Rooster Teeth building, addressed to Achievement Hunter. There was no return address.  
“I guess so,” Michael murmured, mostly to himself, “I mean, they don’t usually come in crates.” He leaned backwards in his chair, never taking his eyes from the strange object which had somehow managed to attract the attention of half of the staff.  
“Should we open it?” Gavin, ever excitable and inquisitive, was trying to peer through the small gaps in the crate. He looked to Geoff for approval, who had been oddly quiet ever since he had walked into work that morning and eyed the mysterious gift.  
Geoff furrowed his brow. “I dunno, Gav. We don’t exactly know what could be in it.”  
“Well,” Gavin began, a pleading edge to his voice, “That’s why I want to open it.”  
“Alright, whatever,” Geoff shrugged, knowing he couldn’t exactly contend with the heightened curiosity of his employees; even Jack was giving him a hopeful look, “But take it outside, okay? That way if it’s a bomb or something I won’t have to run as far as you idiots.”

                It took the whole office (including Geoff, whose intrigue got the better of him in the end) to pull the heavy crate out into the car park. After about twenty minutes of attacking the lid with a crowbar, it finally cracked open. One by one, everyone took a turn at peering inside, and one by one, they all complained that the lightning wasn’t good enough for them to see anything. That was when Lindsay flipped the lid with her foot, revealing six gloriously carved stone eggs, which shimmered delicately in the sunlight. Wrapped around each egg was a silk ribbon, which bore the names of Geoff, Gavin, Michael, Jack, Ray, and Ryan respectively. “Typical, no magic Game of Thrones egg for the spares,” Caleb jested.  
“Aw, eat a dick, Caleb!” Geoff clipped Caleb around the ear without really looking at him. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from his egg long enough to make eye contact – it was simply gorgeous. The base was deepest black, which gradually gave way to angry red, and then fiery orange, like the end of a lit match.

                Next to Geoff was Gavin, who had unknowingly moved forward to stand before the crate, almost as if he were in a daze. Wrapped in a royal blue ribbon was his own egg, which glittered proudly, in varying shades of aquamarine. It looked as if it were a huge gemstone, cut to perfection. It was, however, somewhat smaller than the other eggs, but Gavin hardly noticed.

                “You’re drooling, idiot,” Michael chortled as he moved to stand beside Gavin, to catch a glance at his egg, which was the colour of molten gold, and beamed up at him like the sun. A glance had soon turned into a lingering gaze, and Michael found himself kneeling on the concrete, if only to be closer to it.

                Jack’s egg looked as if it had been plucked from an Irish hillside. Startlingly green, it contrasted beautifully with the dull grey of the crate, and of the car park, and gave off an emerald glow which bounced off every available surface it could find.

                Ray was sat cross-legged in front of his egg. Beneath the ruby red ribbon lay an egg which, if liquidised, easily could have been poured into a glass and classed as a caramel latte, and then sold for about $5 at Starbucks. The bottom was a deep chocolate brown, which gave way to a coffee colour as it rose upwards to the tip of the egg, which was a light and gentle cream.  
“Of course, it just had to be fuckin’ brown... thanks a lot...” Ray muttered.

                Ryan was the only person who had noticed the extravagant black velvet upon which the eggs lay. Of course, that was because his egg was almost the same colour as it. The only thing which distinguished velvet from egg were the dark purple hues which flushed whenever the sun shone down upon it.  
“Who do you think sent these? They must have been so expensive!” He exclaimed, kneeling before his egg.  
“Someone absolutely fucking mental, I’d expect,” Gavin chuckled, as he gently pulled the ribbon from around his egg.  
“It must be some Game of Thrones thing, like Caleb said,” Geoff was now kneeling down too.  
“It has to have been a fan, nobody else would have sent me a fucking brown egg,” Ray had untied his ribbon aswell, and was reaching inside the crate.  
“Who cares what colour it is, man? They’re incredible! We need to find out who made these,” Jack was shaking his head as he said this, apparently unable to believe that human hands could have crafted such finery.  
“You’re telling me, I want them to make another one - I can’t believe they left out Lindsay!” Everyone made light noises of disgust at Michael, and Geoff threw his ribbon at his head.

                And then, all at once, they laid their hands on their eggs.

                Blinding light burst from beneath the scales of the eggs, and their surfaces suddenly became so blisteringly hot that it felt impossible to touch them. And yet it was impossible to let go. The men were all flung backwards, and sprawled across the ground, desperately hanging on to their eggs as they seared and burned in their grasp. Gavin let out a startled yell when the stone of the egg crumbled beneath him, now falling to the ground as thin pieces of eggshell. They all soon found themselves holding the very warm bodies of six tiny creatures, all of which let out a yawn, and then stared lovingly up at their masters with bright, infant eyes.

                _“Dragons,”_ They gasped in unison.


End file.
